AtomDaughters and Sons of Royalty
1 Peter 2:2-10
Perhaps you can imagine it: a group of early Christians somewhere in the Mediterranean world, gathered in a small house church. They have just celebrated a baptism, as we have, perhaps of adults or whole families, and their teacher reads them today’s Bible reading from First Peter. The teacher begins by telling the newly baptized that they are like “newborn infants.” And they are. They have just begun to live as Christians, have just started to serve Christ.
Some will have suffered rejection by their families and friends (v. 3). Most of us here this morning do not know of such things, but I still remember a young man of East Indian descent named Rajah that became our friend when we were on the island of Fiji in the South Pacific. Some of you know that for two years after college, I was with a Christian Outreach team sharing our story of Jesus with individuals and gatherings in the South Pacific Islands. Anyway, Rajah’s family ran one of the many shops in downtown Suva that sold duty free electronics. We met him as we were browsing around and so we told him what we were about and invited him to one of the gatherings where we would be telling about Jesus. He came and the Holy Spirit did its work and he became a believer. The problem was that his family was Hindu. And becoming a believer in Christ meant that he would be alive in Christ, but now dead to his family. They would disown him; he would not be welcome in their home or place of business. He would not be able to go home again. Most of us cannot imagine that kind of sacrifice in becoming a follower of Jesus. For many of us it has been a part of life in our family. Christianity is mostly accepted here. And yet even then some of us do know the separation that may result from following Jesus. We can still go home; we are family, but there is an uncomfortable tension with the rest because our life and our direction and our values are somehow different in following Jesus.
Well, separation and rejection was the norm in the early church. They were always the minority. They were rejected by their families and their community. And yet, says their teacher, they are “chosen and precious in God’s sight” (v.4). What the world has rejected, God has chosen. The Apostle Paul also affirms this. In the letter to the Romans, Paul tells his church that God has chosen what the world considers foolish and “of no account” to confound and disrupt the world!
Now look at verse 5. The teacher reminds the little gathering that they are “a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God.” Priests, you might remember, are those who stand at the altar and offer sacrifices – or gifts – to God in behalf of the world. There was a day when only set-apart, special people were priests.
But now, by baptism into Christ, all are made priests. Some are pastors, to be sure – but all are priests. Every baptized person can now stand before almighty God and make sacrifice, offer gifts to God in behalf of the world.
Even more, the writer tells them (v. 9) that they are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people.” These are powerful words, images which had once applied only to Israel, God’s chosen people, were now applied to all the baptized. Now everyone is chosen, royal, holy, God’s own in Christ.
How strange these words may have seemed to those who gathered there. They were such a small minority, so seemingly insignificant. Priests? Royalty? How? And why?
And then the teacher tells why. “In order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (again, v.9) Why have these once common, ordinary people been made priests, royalty, and chosen? Why do we baptize our children? For special privilege? In order that they might live charmed lives?
No. Rather, “that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” In baptism all of us are called to proclaim God’s mighty deeds; all of us everyone here is called to preach.
Once we were “not a people,” says the teacher. We were nobodies, people with nothing in common. Now, look around this church. We are family. We are “God’s people” (v. 10) with a message to share.
You might not be comfortable with such a designation as “preacher,” but it not be quite not what you think. It doesn’t involve a church. Many people in your life never grace a church where God’s word is read and shared. You might in fact be the only preacher God has in your little corner of the world. You may be the only one someone has to “proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” And your proclaiming, your preaching may not be in the form of a sermon like this.
I know of a couple who tried to keep their marriage together. Really tried. Counseling, therapy, repeated attempts. And yet, after years of effort, when they decided with regret that they ought to end their marriage, they made decision to do the best they could to do it well. They approved of one another’s attorneys. After their divorce hearing ended, the judge said to them and to the court: “I want to say that, in all my years on the bench, I have never presided over a divorce like this. This is the way it ought to be done, if it must be done. You two have done this with such class, with such care for your children, and even for one another. How, why did you do it?”
She looked at the judge and said, “Why? We’re…Christians. We have a duty to do this with love, and with care for one another.”
Am I overstating it if I call them “priests,” if I say they act like “royalty?”
Or try this one. Everyone in Julie’s group at school left the new girl to herself at lunch. She was new, from another part of the world. She never spoke in class and when she did, few could understand her, with her strange way of talking, her accent.
So when Julie got up and moved over to her table in the cafeteria at lunchtime, people looked up and noticed. Later, when one of the others asked,
“What are you doin’ actin’ so nice to that weird new girl?” she responded, “It just seemed like the right thing for me to do.”
“Why?” persisted the other girl.
“Well, because I think its what Jesus would do,” she said.
In this world of conformists and people who “go along to get along,” it is rather amazing that there’s anyone who stands up, stands alone. And yet when we do we get noticed and we become proclaimers of “the one who has called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.”
A couple of weeks ago, when I was interviewing 10th grade confirmands we talked about the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives. And we talked about how the Holy Spirit helps us believe and about how the Holy Spirit is like a conscience that would guide us from wrong, but even more that the Holy Spirit is like the mind of Jesus leading us, opening our eyes and lives to do the right thing.
You and I, by baptism, in Christ are chosen to be God’s priests. Notice, when it says “you” it does not mean “you, Pastor Wade or you, Pastor Dave, but the plural, “you’al” called to serve Christ and to proclaim his marvelous deeds to the world. And I rather expect that there are many within this congregation today who are here, in church, as one of the baptized, as one of the priests because some other ordinary, everyday Christian lived the faith before you in such a way that you saw Christ in them and through them in such a way that you said, “Yes.” Some person at work, or in school or on the baseball field, or maybe some hero of ours that we read about. Yetsterday in the newspaper, Vikings Defensive End Kineche Udeze who is battling Lukemia was quoted as to how his faith has sustained him. Kineche Udeze, defensive end for the Minnesota Vikings, priest and proclaimer. Someone, somewhere proclaimed the “mighty acts of him who called you” in such a way that you knew that you were chosen.
A colleague told me this week of a friend of his named Clayton who was celebrating a very special birthday. He was four. And because it was a special day, his mother told him that he could have any kind of birthday party he wished.
“I want a party where everybody there will be kings and queens,” Clayton replied without hesitation. His wish was granted.
His mother started to work, creating a score of golden paper crowns (she might have gone to Burger King), royal blue crepe paper robes with gold lining, and scepters made from coat hangers and cardboard. Then the afternoon of the party came. As the guests arrived, they were delighted to receive royal crowns, robes, and scepters. Everyone at the party was either a king or queen. Everyone had a wonderful time at Clayton’s party. All the guests enjoyed cake and ice cream. They had a majestic procession up to the end of the block and back. All looked like kings and queens. All believed they were kings and queens. Moreover, they all acted like kings and queens. They all behaved in a most regal manner.
That night, when the guests had all gone home, when the cake and ice cream had been cleared and Clayton was being tucked into bed by his mother, Clayton said, “I wish everyone in the whole world would be a king or queen – not just on my birthday, but every day.”
Well, the good news for Clayton – and for us – is that something very much like that happened two thousand years ago at a place called Calvary. We, who were nobodies became somebodies. If we could all believe that…maybe we could start acting like that – like who we are. (Thanks to Dr. William Willimon…Pulpit Resource, April,May,June 1999)
So I think this little verse is a verse worth putting up on your mirror or in your locker or maybe on the dash of the car. Remember:
“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”
Let’s pray…Lord, help us to believe what you have said of us and to live as if it were true. Amen.
Page 1 of 1 comment pages